From Jagran Bhajans to Big Brands

Honestly? I had zero clue I’d ever become an anchor. I wasn’t the kid who dreamt of lights, cameras, and applause. I didn’t grow up practicing in front of the mirror with a hairbrush mic. Nope. It all began with a modeling show. My first one ever. The entry fee? Just 100 rupees. And me? I literally begged and bullied my family into letting me apply. “Bas ek chance de do,” I told them.

I went. I walked. And to my absolute shock — I came FIRST. That win wasn’t just a trophy. It was a turning point. The anchors at the event noticed the way I spoke, how I carried myself, and they said something that changed everything:

"You’ve got that spark. You’re born for the mic — try anchoring!"

That hit different. For the first time, I saw myself not just on the stage — but owning it.

People appreciated me for my confidence, my voice, my energy.

That’s when I thought, “Okay… maybe this is my thing.”

I’ve been on stage since I was six — singing bhajans with my dad at jagrans.

While other kids played with toys, my childhood was all about mic checks and sound systems. So you could say, the stage was always my second home — I just didn’t know I’d one day command it as an anchor.

I come from a family of singers — it’s like we’re a walking-talking musical group. So I figured, why not be the mic’s boss instead of just the voice behind it? Fear doesn’t live in households like mine. Only performance pressure does. And trust me, that’s a whole different beast!

Coming from a middle-class family, struggle wasn’t a chapter — it was the entire background music of my journey. When I stepped into anchoring, I wasn’t just chasing dreams — I was also helping manage family responsibilities, even covering my own education expenses. My brother wasn’t earning much back then, so it was mostly me and my dad holding things together.

People love judging what they don’t understand.

“Why is she always out?”

“What kind of career is this?”

They’d whisper, question, criticize. But when you’re busy building your life, you don’t owe anyone explanations.

Yes, my family supported me. They said, “Do what you love.” But figuring out the how? That was on me. So I learned. I fell, I got up, I figured it out — again and again.

Because when no one else is clapping for you, you’ve got to be your own loudest cheerleader.

There were events where I managed everything — from costumes and travel to bills and bookings — all while waiting endlessly for payments.

Smiling on stage while worrying about your rent? That’s a different kind of strength.

And the biggest heartbreak?

Trying to balance personal trauma with professional performance.

My father was admitted to the ICU during peak season — he had a brain tumor.

I had to keep working because our hospital bills were piling up.

So I’d host an event, all glam and glitter, hype up the crowd with, “Helloooo everyone, are you readyyyyy?!”

Then rush backstage and check his reports, emotionally numb but smiling for the camera.

People saw the show. They didn’t see the girl backstage, hiding her tears with makeup.

That phase? It nearly broke me. But I didn’t stop.

Because giving up was never an option.

Today, I’m a full-time anchor — but I’m not stopping at weddings and private gigs.

I’m aiming big. Reality shows, major platforms, national stages — I won’t say what’s next, because I believe in doing, not declaring.

I’m also building a strong digital presence — on Instagram and soon, YouTube — not just to showcase my work but to inspire, entertain, and guide those who need it.

Because I know how confusing and lonely the start can be.There was no one to guide me when I started — no mentor, no map. So now, if I can help even one fresher find their voice, their stage, and their confidence, I’ll call that my biggest win.

In a short span, I’ve built a solid profile — and worked with some amazing names:

Govinda ji, Realme, Vivo, Spinemat Mattress… and many more.

But I’m just getting started.

Because for me, the mic isn’t just a tool.

It’s a responsibility.

And I was born to hold it.